


Like a turkey at thanksgiving

by thingsiwontadmittohavewritten



Series: Fill me up [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (extreme underage), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beta Sheriff Stilinski, Butt Plugs, M/M, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Parent/Child Incest, Underage - Freeform, implied Claudia Stilinski died during child birth, thermometers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8580478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingsiwontadmittohavewritten/pseuds/thingsiwontadmittohavewritten
Summary: You'd haver never thought that was the hole to fill to make Stiles quiet, would you





	

**Author's Note:**

> *Points to username* That's all the explanation you need  
> Comments, kudos and constructive critism are more than welcome, if you got any ideas for a better titel I'm all ears, too.  
> Endnotes might be spoilery, but are an explanation for the underage/(extreme underage) tags

_Sometimes the sheriff can’t help but wonder if it’s his fault that things turned out the way they did, guilt ripping through him for a fraction of an instant before he’s shaken from his thoughts by the sounds and smell from the omega in his bed._

  
-

They’d been so happy Claudia and he when the doctor finally confirmed her pregnancy, eight long months later he had a wailing new born in his arm and a dead wife, his life shattered around him in ways he couldn’t even fathom.  
The boy was easy, though; he ate and slept on schedule from the second they got home and hardly ever made any fuss. All that changed when he turned six months old and caught a cold. He paced the house with the child perched on his arms; little nose stuffed, breathing labored and the constant crying driving him crazy. He tried everything the doctor told him, everything the old lady next door told him (even the whiskey on the pacifier, though he’d never admit to that); there was nothing he didn’t try and nothing that worked and even the doctor had told him not to come back unless the boy had a fever of at least 101. Needing to know if his son’s fever is high enough he manages to locate the thermometer and the vaseline, gently lays the boy on the changing table and removes his clothes and diaper before cleaning off the thermometer, applying the greasy gel and carefully inserting it into his son’s squirming body.  
The effect is as instantaneous as it is surprising; as soon as its inside and he starts counting the seconds the boy stops crying, spits out his pacifier and sends his father a big, toothless grin. He heaves a relieved sigh and then the thermometer beeps and he gently removes it again. As fast as the boy quieted he’s instantly screaming again tears springing from his eyes fighting being held and even spitting out the pacifier when it’s stuck in his mouth. In the end he lays the child down again, inserts the thermometer once more and again the boy is quiet and smiling at him.  
It became the easiest way to calm the boy; every time he was sick or agitated the sheriff would lay him down – first in the crib, later in the child sized bed he brought – and carefully insert the thermometer sitting down to read his son stories until the child felt better and he could remove the thing again.

  
-

Stiles started school and grew older and the sheriff had almost forgotten about it until one day he comes home to his son’s heart breaking sobs rather than his usual happy greeting. The boy’s so distressed he can hardly understand a word out the kid’s mouth, and in an act of desperation he carries him to his room, deposits him on the bed where the kid keeps crying inconsolably before he goes in search of the thermometer.  
The thing is gone and he can still hear the boy’s cries so in the end he walk back to his son’s bedroom, vaseline in hand like a trophy, removes the boys pants and inserts the tip of his pinky as gently as the first time he put anything inside his son. As always Stiles’ crying comes to an abrupt halt and he sends a wet smile in his dad’s direction, that the sheriff doesn’t notice too preoccupied by the feeling of being surrounded by heat and the unconscious pull of getting him deeper. It takes every amount of self-control he has not to thrust his hand against the boy, and by the time he manages to remove it the sun has set and Stiles is fast asleep.  
It progresses slowly from there; every day when the boy gets home from school he’ll make himself some food, peel the potatoes before going to the master bedroom where he’ll get the bottle of lube, take of his pants and underwear and then go back to his own room to do his homework. When his dad gets home the sheriff will make dinner and while it gets done he’ll go to his son’s room, look over his homework and then lube up his fingers. At first it’s simply the tip of his pinky, then the whole digit and in the end he’s buried four fingers deep inside his son.  
The teachers complain that the boy is loud and doesn’t pay attention in class, but then the sheriff decides they should try doing it in the morning, too, seeing as the boy is always quiet and still on his father’s fingers. The reports come back that the boy behaves for the first few lectures but then he seems to be even louder and fidgets more.  
He purchases them online and when they arrive he lets Stiles open the parcel, watches the way his son’s mouth falls open and his eyes light with joy holding the plastic package that proclaims “Anal trainer set” in large, purple letters. As Stiles gets used to wearing them at all times the sheriff gets fewer complaints about his son’s loudness and fidgetiness. By the time the school year’s over the boy has the beginnings of an impressive collection.

  
-

The thing is: he’s an officer of the law, he does have a moral code and he knows that what he’s doing is wrong, but in his defense he doesn’t see it as anything _sexual_ , at least not until that faithful day Stiles stumbles through the bathroom door just as he’s climbing out the shower. Both boy and man stands still, a word of reprimand for forgetting to knock on the sheriff’s lips and Stiles’ mouth hanging open, pupils widening and then a small, pink tongue sneaking out from its confines to lick at his lips. It’s been so long since Claudia or even himself has touched and the way Stiles’ eyes lock onto him with that single minded focus has blood rushing south and he can feel himself grow hard underneath the boy’s gaze. “I want,” is all the kid says and there’s nothing he will deny his son so he simply nods, and tells him “eventually.”  
Because no matter how many plugs the kid has and how much time he spends with one in his ass they are still small seeing their purpose has only been to fill rather than stretch, and there’s no way he’s going to hurt the boy, regardless of the way his eyes fill with hunger whenever his eyes strays to the bulge in his father’s pants.  
This time they look and buy together and the day the parcel finally arrives Stiles begs him to stay home and try it out; so he calls the school that the boy’s sick and the station to switch to night shift, and then it’s just the two of them.  
Once Stiles has taken off his pjs and boxers he’s glad to see his son has chosen to wear the biggest plug in the collection in anticipation of this; he takes the bottle of lube Stiles has carelessly placed next to where he’s on all fours on his bed and the sheriff pours a generous amount onto his fingers before he removes the plug from the boy. He takes a moment just to admire the way the hole in front of him seems to wink at him as if it’s a sentient thing that’s just waiting to be stuffed full; the disgruntled sound Stiles makes reminds him that it kind of is, and he gets back to business starting off with the tip of two fingers, carefully pulling at the boy’s rim while occasionally adding more lube. When he can get both fingers inside all the way he starts scissoring, reminding the boy to stay still and tell him if anything’s wrong. The boy hums in agreement, mouth hanging open and eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of being full.  
They gradually increase the circumference of the plug, moving with glacial speed because no matter how much the sheriff wants to get inside the boy’s still small and slender and he’s not a small man and there’s no way he’s going to hurt the kid, but once he decides that Stiles has adjusted to the girth they get to the real thing.  
He can’t remember it ever feeling this good even as he’s holding completely still letting the boy adjust to having a real cock up his ass giving him time to come to terms with everything that’s happening right now. His knees are starting to protest having to support his weight and his back is starting to hurt staying in the same position but every discomfort is nothing compared to the way Stiles’ smooth skin feels against his legs; against his sac resting against the boy’s cheeks; the tight, warm heat surrounding his throbbing flesh, and then – finally – the boy tells him to move, setting a grueling pace that punches small grunts out of the body under him, getting lost in the rhythm of pulling out, pushing in; fast enough the bed starts hammering against the wall, the fire burning in his veins, building in the pit of his stomach as his balls tighten and he erupts, his seed shooting as deep inside his child as it can possibly go, and still he thrusts into that pliant body through the peak and the aftershock, small; aborted motions of his hips even as he collapses over his son, completely drained and shaking from the intensity of it. When he comes to he rolls off the boy hissing as his soft dick falls from its warm resting place and promptly passes out.  
The sun’s warm on his face and his cock is hard and in the land between asleep and awake where instinct seems to take over he lazily starts thrusting his hips upwards. Expecting to meet his blankets his eyes fly open when he’s gripped in that same tight heat from the night before and met with the sight of his son sleeping on his chest. A quick reach with his hands confirms that apparently Stiles has slept on his cock and the sheriff is simply incapable of processing that thought, so he closes his eyes and lets his body call the shots. He doesn’t open them until he falls from Stiles’ body, gently lifts the boy off of him and then he gets up, goes to the master bedroom for a change of clothes and then he takes a shower.  
***  
Plagued with guilt he ignores his son; he stays longer at the station and almost only goes home to eat, shower and change his clothes. The worst part is that he doesn’t feel guilty because he broke the law, he feels guilty because fucking his son had been the closest to a religious experience the sheriff has ever had; so it’s no wonder when he finally ends up crying at Claudia’s grave and leaves without neither answers nor signs as to what he should do.  
He gets a week to wallow in his misery, a whole week where Stiles allows his father to ignore him, and then the sheriff comes home (more like he sneaks into the house, but he pays the mortgage so he can do as he damn well pleases) at a time where Stiles is supposed to be at school, so the silence isn’t that surprising even as he recoils from it. He wants a shower – he’s been at a triple shift by now, and it shows – and then a short nap before he has to get back to the station. And really he should’ve known better but it still comes as a shock when he wakes up and the first thing he sees is his son’s face smiling down at him where he’s perched across his waist, slowly sinking down and before the man fully understands what’s happening he’s once again gripped by that amazingly tight heat. The boy sets an unsteady rhythm of up and down, no finesse to it simply letting gravity drive him further and further down on his father’s shaft and he might lose his mind a little because his hips rise to meet the boy’s movements and soon there’s only the sound of skin against skin as he slams up against Stiles’ ass and the boy happily holding on for dear life. He cums just as violently as the first time not really registering anything other than the way Stiles leans forward reaching for something lying next to him and then the cool air against his flaccid cock as the boy lifts himself off of him and his eyes adjust just in time to see his son carefully plugging himself up, trapping his father’s release inside him and with a quiet sigh laying down on him, nuzzling against his chest at falling asleep. The sheriff can’t help the chuckle that escapes him and then he brings his arms up to wrap around the boy, nuzzles against his temple and falls asleep, free of guilt.  
Their routine returns to normal, just with more fucking; it’s glorious and he feels like a teenager again, his dick growing hard just with the thought of his son. Not that Stiles makes it any easier for him: he refuses to wear clothes at home, always bending and twisting giving his father small, tantalizing views of the jewelry between his cheeks; always making obscene noises no matter what he does and practically begging for it with every breath he takes. But the thing that’s probably going to kill him eventually is that every morning Stiles will come into the master bedroom while he’s showering, and then he’s greeted with the sight of his son on his knees in the middle of the bed, hands holding his cheeks far enough apart that the man can see the boy’s hole glistening with lube, gapingly empty because the boy has no patience and has spent the time wisely so all his father has to do is line up and sink in and fill him up. When he pulls out again he takes the plug the boy has left on the night stand and uses it to keep his essence inside, before he goes to make breakfast and Stiles goes to take a shower, get dressed and ready for school.

  
-

He’d always assumed his son would be a beta, after all both he and Claudia had been not to mention their entire families – there had never been any other option and yet; his son had complained about not feeling well for the past few days but it hadn’t been bad enough to warrant staying home, but when he comes out the shower and Stiles isn’t waiting for him on the bed as he usually is worry shoots through him and he runs to his son’s bedroom. The boy definitely wasn’t a beta, is the only hysterical thought in his head as he takes in the sight of his son writhing on the bed, one hand twisting a dildo inside him the other furiously stripping his own small member, whines sounding from his throat and tears streaming from his eyes. It’s heart breaking and yet so terribly arousing watching the boy even as he’s overcome by guilt that he’s the reason his son is suffering right now; it’s the pained yelp from Stiles that kicks him into action, first taking hold of the boy’s wrists stilling their activity, then forcing him onto his stomach arms above his head and spreading the kid’s legs as he settles between them, watching the purple monstrosity lodged in his son bobbing merrily with Stiles’ movements. Knowing he’s not what the boy needs right now he leans over the side of the bed, blindly searching for something almost yelling in triumph as he comes back with a belt that he uses to tie Stiles’ hands with before getting up to search for the boys bathrobes and using their belts to tie his feet to the bed. Then – with one last, lingering look at his son’s body – he leaves the room to make a call.

**Author's Note:**

> By the end of this fic Stiles is 15 or 16 (I'll give you that as underage, even though it's not where I'm from). However, the first time the sheriff inserts anything other than a thermoteter in Stiles' anus he's about 6 years old - it doesn't turn (for lack of better term) sexual until Stiles is about 10; but probably still warrents the warning for 'extreme' underage


End file.
